If someone had asked me on Tuesday how Tera was doing, I would have told them she seemed just a little bit better. Her cough, while still present and awful sounding, seemed to be decreasing somewhat. We sent her to school on Wednesday with the instructions to only give her one nebulizer treatment instead of two.
Wednesday night I was finally able to go to the gym. Tom and I rejoined XSport last weekend and Wednesday was the first chance I had to go. I was more anxious to workout than I have been in quite a while. A lot of people find cardio therapeutic. I read all the time about people who go for a run to forget about everything else; but when I tried that last summer, all I thought about was how much longer I had to keep running and how unnatural it felt to me. Even when I did Turbo Fire, which I do like, I was always watching the timer wondering how much longer I had to go before I was done. But when I do weights, I find myself wondering what else I can fit in before I have to leave. I focus on my form, the reps, and my muscles, and that’s when I forget about everything else. I can put all my anxiety, frustration, and stress into my workout and not only burn calories and build muscle, but release some tension. Because I’m not at home, I’m not wondering what I could be doing around the house that needs to be done and I can focus just on what I’m doing. I like feeling strong and weights are what do that for me. By the time I was done, I felt great and back to myself again.
Pretty much as soon as I got Tera in the car after picking her up, she started coughing. She coughed on an off the rest of the evening (which had not happened in a while) and then it got really bad when we put her to bed. She coughed most of the first hour of being in bed and I had to go rock her back to sleep twice during that time. The rest of the time Tom and I played our usual game of glancing at each other each time she coughed, wondering what we were going to do and how the rest of the night was going to go. It could have been one of those nights when we expect the worst and she ends up sleeping just fine. It could have been, but it wasn't. She continued coughing on and off and ended up in a coughing fit from about 2am to 3am. I was, of course, wide awake from the minute of the first cough, and then had to get up around 2:30 to get her back to sleep when she finally woke herself up crying. Around 3am I got her back to sleep and she slept cough free all the way until 4:45. I got her back to sleep again, but then I had to get up and start getting ready anyway.
The rest of the day went as such: called the pulmonologist in the morning to see if we should bring her in. They couldn't see her and it was suggested we get her into the pediatrician so someone could listen to her lungs to make sure they were clear. This of course conflicted with the appointment we already had scheduled with the orthotist to see how her orthotics were working. We called and rescheduled the orthotist for next Thursday (when I already have a chiropractor appointment), got her into the pediatrician who said she sounded clear and wished us luck. Went to dinner, picked up her new prescriptions (Augmentin for the sinus infection that won’t go away and a new dose of her Pulmicort to help with the cough), got home, gave her the new antibiotic which she fought tooth and nail, gave her the two nebulizer treatments, and then I spent the next 40 minutes trying to get a screaming, writhing child to sleep.
At the conclusion of all this I finally broke down. I cried, sobbed, and bawled my eyes out wondering how I, we, are going to keep doing this. I admitted to Tom that I knew we would, but wondered how. I screamed how much I hate all of this; hate that she has to go through it, how we have to go through it, and how can we keep going through it. I wanted to know why this had to happen to us; why do some people have it so easy, and it has to be so hard for us. And after a few minutes of this I calmed down feeling a tiny bit better that I had gotten it all out.
So today I went to work with some seriously puffy eyes and major baggage underneath. But we had all slept better, I saw my chiropractor and got all the physical stress out, then went and got my nails done for the Gala tomorrow, and had dinner with our good friends and watched our girls just be little girls together
Tomorrow night we get an adult’s night out and we get to support one of our favorite causes at the same time. The irony is not lost on me that in a week when I have in fact cursed Down Syndrome, tomorrow night I will in fact be celebrating it…